Vongole
by Angel1876
Summary: Klavier has a secret that no one but Kristoph knew. Now Kristoph is gone, and Klavier is alone. That secret? Klavier is a werewolf.
There was nothing suspicious about a defense attorney and his dog. Lots of people had pets, so when people saw the large, shaggy blond mutt lounging on the man's couch, no one questioned it. And because a lot of dogs didn't do well around strangers, it wasn't too out of the ordinary for Kristoph to coax his pet into the back room whenever someone came over.

Vongole was always well cared for. Kristoph didn't bother with dog chow or kibbles, he bought only the best for him, fresh steaks from the store were a common treat. People liked to joke that Vongole ate better than his owner sometimes.

No one noticed that Vongole could only be found at the attorney's home on certain days of the month. Specifically the days when the moon was full and bright.

Klavier appreciated everything his brother did for him. Even before the bite that had him turning into a beast on a regular basis, the two of them had been close. Kristoph was kind, understanding, accepting when most others would have rejected him without a second though. He didn't flinch away when Klavier put his head in his lap, even lowered a hand to brush his fingers through the wolf's fur.

The full moon wasn't Klavier's favorite time of the month, but Kristoph made it bearable. Which was why, when Kristoph went away, dragged off to a lonely cell for the crime of murder, Klavier didn't know what to do.

With his paycheck, it wasn't hard for him to buy the house his brother used to own. If he was going to be forced into isolation, he was going to pick a prison that felt familiar to him. A place that smelled of warmth and safety and of the family that was all but completely lost to him.

He was active most of the time. He prosecuted, wrote music, went out and socialized with friends and fans. But for three days out of the month, he locked himself in the house and curled up in his brother's bed, muzzle pressed into the pillows as if they were in any way a proper substitution. He feasted on the scraps of meat he laid out on a tarp on the floor, and he slept.

The cycle remained unbroken until Kristoph again stood in the courtroom, the weight of another murder on his head. Klavier withdrew after that, hid away in the empty house when it wasn't needed. If he'd been thinking, he'd have realized that people were going to worry, but in his grief he'd failed to give the others much thought. He stayed inside, away from the public eye for the two weeks prier to the full moon. It was fate's cruel irony that the knock at the door came less than an hour after his transformation.

The wolf looked up at the sound, letting out a small huff of air before resting his head back down on the pillow, one pointed ear flicking as whomever it was knocked again. They'd simply have to come back later, when he was human once more.

Then he heard the distinct sound of one of his windows being forced open.

With a startled yip, he scrambled up to all fours, padding out of the bedroom and down the stairs, fully intent on barking the intruder out of his home. Be it a overly enthusiastic journalist or a robber, he didn't want anyone there poking around in his space. He froze halfway down at the sight of Apollo, ears laying flat against his head, turning tail and darting back up, just barely catching the young attorney's eyes as they snapped toward him.

What the hell was he doing? This was breaking and entering! Apollo of all people should know better!

Klavier hopped back up on the bed, laying down in the corner, as far away from the door as possible. He was acutely aware of every step Apollo took, wandering around the house, his none too soft voice calling out his name in search of a prosecutor he wouldn't find.

The wolf whined, quiet and restless as Apollo went by, just barely sparing him a glance before moving on, no doubt disappointed when he found nothing in the rest of the house.

Just as he was hoping that Apollo would give up his search and go home, he came back, stepped into the room, arms folded and glare evident as he stared him down. With hardly any thought, Klavier dropped down onto his side, tilted his head back, exposed his throat to the man. There was no way Apollo would come to the conclusion that the wolf in front of him was his rival prosecutor, but the thought pressed in on Klavier's mind all the same. He knows. He knows, or he'll find out, and he'll be afraid, or angry, or disgusted, and he'll go away just like his brother did, only he'll choose to go away instead of being forced. That's worse. That's so much worse. And when he tells everyone else, they'll go away, too.

He whimpered, eyes closed, holding very, very still.

"...hey, Vongole." Apollo's voice was soft, for him at least. "You can relax. I'm not gonna steal anything. Prosecutor Gavin's stuff is too flashy for me, anyway."

The bed shifted under his weight, crawled forward to settle next to him. Klavier winced as fingertips brushed through his fur, petting first along his side before moving up to scratch behind one of his ears.

When Klavier didn't move, Apollo let out a small laugh. "I don't know what Mr. Gavin was talking about. You're not gonna bite me."

He pulled his hand away and lay on his back, arms folded under his head, a sigh of frustration parting his lips. Slowly, Klavier rolled over onto his stomach, watching the attorney warily, his own head kept low.

"He can't have been gone long. I saw your dinner all laid out in the living room. The meat's fresh. Any idea when he'll be back, buddy?"

Klavier didn't respond. Apollo shifted again, lay a hand on Klaviers shoulder, buried his fingers into the fur.

"At least I know he's okay. Think he'll mind if I wait here for him?"

Yes! He'd mind! He'd very much mind!

Klavier's whine of protest bought Apollo's gaze back to him. He looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Apollo frown. "Are you alright, Vongole?" With a bit of shifting, Apollo wrapped himself around him, face nuzzling into his fur, hand brushing down to rub at his chest. "It's fine. You're fine, and Prosecutor Gavin is fine. He'll come back, and we'll have a long talk, and everything's going to be fine."

Fine. He kept using that word. Of course it'd be fine. The world could be falling apart and Apollo would say it was fine. Everything's fine.

A shiver ran through him, prompting Apollo to hold him tighter.

"Shhhh...shh..." he soothed, "It's fine."

Despite himself, Klavier started to relax. Apollo's warmth and scent seeped into him the longer they lay curled up together. He relaxed into the embrace, into the gentle petting and scratching until Apollo slowed and grew still. His breath deepened, tiny noises Klavier didn't quiet consider snoring but were close.

He'd sneak off and turn back in his own room come sunrise, get dressed before Apollo could wake up. Tell him some story about how Vongole had to go visit a retaliative or something like that. Tease him about his blatant criminal activity and play off like he's flattered that he was such a dedicated fan.

He didn't have to know he was a werewolf. He wouldn't know.

...but for now, this was okay.

Apollo didn't feel like Kristoph. He felt like Apollo. But at least he wasn't alone.


End file.
